Fitful Night

This is a prose-poetry work that came to me when thinking back of a fitful night filled with the strangest dreams...

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

My eyes open wide and I

See nothing at all,

It's so dark and somehow

I've lost the sense of space,

There is no solidity in the

Daze of the night.

The fog once again

Carries me into loss

And my spirit grows wings

To a place that no

Angels may lie,

A place made of nightmares

And dread that crawls

Up in my veins.

There was something I had to do, something so important that it forced me to fall back to sleep, and now that I'm back I must

Hurry, hurry

Hurry because I am truly alone

There is no one here to take my place.

They are chasing us, these things, their dilapidated souls inhabit any object that may happen to lie on their path. We must watch everything from the corner of our eyes less we be taken by surprise and God knows the consequences if we let them catch us,

Is it death,

Or will I just awaken

Again for the hundreth

Time just tonight,

Condemned to dread

What there could have been here.